Tom riddle

Tom Riddle never liked being touched.

At least, that was what everyone thought.

You discovered otherwise one rainy evening when you found him sitting alone by the window, reading.

Without saying anything, you walked over and sat beside him.

Tom glanced at you.

"Cold?"

"A little."

He immediately closed his book and moved closer.

You looked at him suspiciously.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You were staring."

"You just moved closer."

"And?"

"You don't usually do that."

Tom sighed before pulling his coat around your shoulders.

"You complain too much."

You smiled and rested your head against him.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then you noticed his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles over your hand.

"Tom?"

"Hm?"

"You're actually really sweet."

His hand stopped.

"Take that back."

You laughed.

"No."

He looked at you with a warning expression, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

"You are impossible."

You leaned closer.

"And you like me anyway."

Tom stared at you for a moment before quietly pulling you against his chest.

"Unfortunately."

You smiled against him.

His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

"Don't tell anyone I'm like this with you."

"Why?"

"Because I have a reputation to maintain."

You laughed softly.

Tom rolled his eyes, but held you even tighter.